Of Ivy and Coriander
by Eckersley
Summary: Flowers are pretty damn symbolic for hobbits. And there's not enough dominant!Bilbo in this fandom. One-shot, rated T for safety, please don't shoot me for corny ideas.


If Bilbo Baggins had to be honest, the company of the dwarves had rubbed off on him. While once he'd spent weeks pining for his comfortable hobbit-hole – his bed, regular meals, a quiet smoke in the garden – he found that he missed his life less and less as those weeks wore on and turned into months. Living on the road, in rough conditions with no guarantee for his safety or a next meal, had brought into sharp relief just how boring his life in the Shire had been in comparison. On top of the adrenaline rushes and trekking, he'd spent this time in the company of thirteen rowdy, impolite, very unashamedly masculine dwarves. Their behavior had to have eventually rubbed off on him as they were the only regular company he kept on the road – he found himself becoming more used to their brash impropriety, and had recently found himself more involved in their company than he had been previously.

Perhaps he could attribute this inclusion to Thorin Oakenshield's sudden acceptance of him after the encounter with Azog the Defiler. After the event, most all of the dwarves had suddenly warmed much more to the hobbit, as if they'd only been waiting for their leader to give the okay for them to associate with him on even terms. It had been difficult living with them beforehand, being excluded by most save the twins and a couple older dwarves in the lot, but now he was a part of the Company he'd become far more open in his behavior. He still wasn't as loud or brazen as the rest, but he understood them to some degree.

Maybe he'd only become this open since letting his Took side loose. He'd been an adventurous kid – it had been hid under the guise of a strict Baggins for years now. Maybe it'd wanted to be let out, and this had been the opportunity presented away from the gossip and suspicion his townsfolk would have inflicted upon him otherwise. Of course, none of this is to say that he'd lost his sense of propriety or no longer felt the keen sting of his Baggins conscience reprimanding him.

The Company sat around a good fire, talking and laughing animatedly over a good stew Bilbo had prepared while they mentally unwound. If there was one thing he was good at on this journey, it was cooking – he'd discovered an aptitude for whipping up a hearty meal from the scarcest or strangest ingredients, and so shared the duty with Bombur. Of course that dwarf knew how to cook – his life revolved around good food.

The Hobbit put down his now-empty bowl, laughing in the most contained manner he could manage in such a good mood, as Kili reiterated a rather crude joke complete with hand gestures. It was not the most savory of humor, but definitely amusing and nothing to be ashamed of in present company. It had been a relaxing day of travel – tiring, but without incident, and the warm companionship of the dwarves on such a clear Spring evening had improved his mood tenfold. The only thing that might improve it would be some pipeweed, but he'd unfortunately run short of that quite some time ago.

His disappointment must have showed. He looked up to see Thorin watching him from the corner of his eye, only to blink and look away as soon as he noticed Bilbo make eye contact. As though he was nervous. That had happened a lot recently.

It had started after the incident with Azog. Not only had Bilbo been properly accepted into the Company, but he'd found Thorin avoiding his gaze more and more. And more and more, he felt Thorin looking at him. Every time he caught the dwarf staring, Thorin would look away. Sometimes he'd frown, sometimes he'd cough. Sometimes he'd throw himself into sudden conversation with a confused dwarf wondering why Thorin was suddenly commenting on the weather or the condition of the roads. And then sometimes he'd maintain eye contact just a little longer than usual before he'd break it, and Bilbo could swear he'd see a slight red tinge across the dwarf King's cheeks, or the suggestion of him biting his lip.

It wasn't as though Thorin had been doing his best to ignore him entirely. On the contrary, he involved the Company burglar in any plans he made for their travels, or ensured some small security measures – making sure Bilbo travelled near the front of the company, lightly reprimanding his dwarf companions if they got too boisterous or inquisitive in their dealings with their slightly smaller-than-them thief.

Bilbo wasn't an idiot. He'd been an adventurous lad, and so was somewhat familiarized with body language and patterns of behavior in the hobbit lasses in the Shire. Even some of the boys had acted similarly. He leaned toward Fili beside him, nudging him in the ribs whilst not looking away from Thorin, a slight frown on his features. Fili leaned in, drawing the attention of Kili as well.

"Say, Fili, have you noticed Thorin acting a bit… what's a good word…"

"Strange?" Kili supplied. Bilbo shrugged and nodded. "Now that you mention it, he has rather been quiet."

Bilbo nodded again, leaning away and letting the twins get back to their banter. But Kili got up from his seat, moving to sit on the other side of Bilbo. When he saw Thorin turn to look over at the movement, Bilbo looked away quickly to the youngest twin.

"What are you getting at, eh, Bilbo?" he asked, smirking conspiratorially. Bilbo returned the look, grinning a little, and glanced at Thorin from the corner of his eye. Their leader did his best to hide the slightly confused look of worry, and again turned away as fast as was socially acceptable. Bilbo's smirk leveled.

"I have some suspicions, but you'll have to wait and see if I'm right."

Kili drew back with a disappointed but intrigued smile tugging at his lips as he glanced between his uncle and the hobbit.

Bilbo had the obvious suspicion that Thorin had taken some romantic interest in him, of course, although it was difficult to come to terms with the fact that the dwarf prince was nervous of it. It hadn't struck Bilbo as a really dwarven thing to feel – nervousness – but there was a first for every encounter, and now the hobbit had quite resolved to see that his suspicions were confirmed and make up his own mind, preferably not in that order. It was no fair singling out Thorin for investigation unless Bilbo knew he'd be prepared to accept Thorin as a partner.

He brought up a related matter on the road the next day. Drawing his pony back, he fell into step with Fili and Kili, who parted their own ponies to walk three astride. Why did he go to the twins? Because they were likely to be the most freely talkative on any matter, and most likely to figure out what he was doing anyway. Best take it straight to the detectives, rather than try and hide it.

"What can we do for you, Bilbo?" Fili asked, quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"I'm curious," Bilbo began. "About dwarf women."

"Or the apparent lack thereof," Kili laughed. "They're hard to distinguish. It's the beards." He illustrated his point by stroking his chin, although he didn't have a proper beard to show off. Fili chuckled.

"Then how do you figure out if a dwarf is female?" Bilbo frowned.

"You don't, unless you outright ask or the clothes come off," Fili chuckled happily. "So it's become a thing in the dwarf nation not to care about gender. We pick partners for personality and ability, rather than gender, mainly because finding a dwarf woman is so rare."

"So there'd be a lot of marriages between men, then?"

"Oh yes. _Anything_ goes in the dwarf nation," Kili smirked. "I'll bet it's not quite the same in the Shire."

"No, our women are a lot easier to find," Bilbo chuckled. "Thanks for that."

He moved his pony back up the line and settled into stride, watching Thorin's body sway in his own saddle. So male/male marriage was no surprise in the dwarf kingdom. At least it was nothing unusual – that took a lot of stress from the situation.

But the question had to be answered – did he want to pursue some relationship with Thorin, assuming the dwarf was genuinely and consciously interested? He couldn't deny that any physical contact he had with the dwarf made his heart skip a beat or a shock to run through his body. Thorin was exceedingly attractive; not only in looks but also in the way he carried himself. How he handled his companions, the way he stood. That _voice_. While Bilbo couldn't definitively say he was more attracted to the same sex than the opposite, he couldn't deny the lust there was felt for this dwarf. Besides, it was nothing frowned upon by dwarves, even if it wasn't strictly acceptable in the Shire, and he had been in the company of dwarves for some time – as said, that had rubbed off on him somewhat.

Yet, outside of lust, was there the potential for love? It would not do to confuse the two – physical want did not equate with love in the purest sense. It came down to whether or not he could take Thorin as a life partner… but in that sense, he had no real qualms with the idea.

So what was stopping him? One didn't need to be certain to throw oneself into a relationship – one only needed the confidence to make it work, and the determination to do so. If he were to go after Thorin, he'd not do so lightly. Therefore, he'd need to figure out just whether or not that effort might be in vain.

Bilbo had spent much of that night in quiet thought, thankfully undisturbed by those dwarves who initially sought to get him to join the conversation before they recognized some conniving expression on his features. Even snug with a blanket as a pillow and trying to sleep, he was still caught up in thought. How would he go about figuring Thorin out?

The answer came the next day when he saw a familiar little flower growing by the path they were riding on. A bush of lavender. He leaned over in his saddle, one hand on the horn as well as using the natural strength in his legs to stay in the saddle, and somehow managed to lean low enough to pluck up a long-stemmed sprig and then get back upright. He twirled the flowers between his fingers, smiling coyly as his gaze traveled up to the back of Thorin's head. Meanings of flowers were something most Hobbits were familiar with, having a common love of things that grow. It might be a chance to get to Thorin as well.

He nudged his pony into a trot, drawing level with the dwarf prince. Walking side by side, Thorin looking at him curiously – expecting him to say something -, Bilbo twirled the lavender again and brought it to his nose to inhale the sweet scent. His eyes traveled from it to Thorin, still with that coy smile, making the dwarf cough and look back ahead.

"What do you want, burglar?" his voice was a little hoarse. Cold weather? Bilbo looked back to the flower.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" he asked innocently. Thorin growled some affirmation and forced his gaze back to the hobbit.

"What's the lavender for?" he asked, voice betraying that he didn't really want to ask the question. Bilbo looked at him to smile happily.

"Hobbits are very fond of flowers – they hold a lot of meaning for us," he said. "Lavender in particular is usually associated with devotion."

He reached across and, with just the one hand, deftly weaved the flower into the mane of Thorin's pony. The dwarf watched the flower with a look of slight suspicion, and then turned an inquiring glare to Bilbo, who withdrew with a self-satisfied smile and let his pony fall behind. He didn't care to check whether Thorin removed the flower or not.

He was sure to repeat the gesture the next day. It wasn't until they stopped, only an hour or so before sunset, that he found the flower he was looking for, and it was honestly lucky that they'd stopped nearby. A jonquil flower. He stopped his pony next to it and dismounted, picking it up as he led his pony to a tree to tie him for the night. Purposefully he chose his path to pass close to the dwarf prince.

Thorin hadn't noticed his approach immediately, as he was tending his own pony – unloading the bags and loosening the tack while a lead rope was tied in a loose knot around a tree. Bilbo coughed politely, drawing Thorin's attention.

The dwarf hummed an acknowledgement of his presence, only glancing at Bilbo with an expression that invited him to do something, as he continued to see to his mount. Bilbo, twirling the jonquil, stepped around Thorin to weave it into the pony's mane as well and idly noted that the lavender was still there.

"What does _that _one mean?" Thorin asked, somewhat hesitatingly, as he watched Bilbo's hands work.

"Affection, or desire," Bilbo replied casually, before turning away to tie up his own pony, exercising great control to not look back and catch Thorin's expression.

Of course, this new habit of giving Thorin various flowers had drawn the attention of several dwarves. None of them asked Thorin what was going on, most likely because he was so menacing, so instead they turned to Bilbo. When prompted for an explanation, all Bilbo did was smile and say, "You'll see why soon enough."

The next time he presented Thorin with a flower, the dwarf was much less apprehensive. Bilbo weaved in a gladioli, and could have sworn he saw the faintest of smiles on Thorin's face as the hobbit, as usual, casually said it represented sincerity. But Thorin never made any reciprocate gestures toward Bilbo – the flowers never left the pony's mane, but Bilbo was growing a little impatient to see if any of this had definitively worked.

The next night, he'd resolved that if dwarves were famous for one thing, it was their brash outgoing nature. Their absolute bravery in everything they did. Maybe it was time he stepped up to that challenge and forced Thorin to answer him.

So while Bombur was cooking and the dwarves were talking animatedly in their circle around the fire, Bilbo vaguely excused himself to get out of the circle, under the guise of fetching something he'd forgotten to retrieve from his pony. Oh yes, he had an idea of what to do to get Thorin to respond.

A few minutes later, Bilbo returned and stepped behind Thorin, bending to rest his elbows on the dwarf's shoulders, laughing gently as he felt Thorin instantly tense underneath him. As he felt the rumble of Thorin about to speak, probably to ask what the hell he was doing, he just lowered his head to rest his chin in the crook of Thorin's neck, right hand came around with a sprig of mistletoe held between the index and middle finger. Waving it teasingly, directly in the dwarf's line of sight.

He could see the blush cross Thorin's cheeks, noting the surprise on his face. Bilbo hummed happily, his voice vibrating through the dwarf, making him shudder, before several of the other dwarves broke out of their stunned reveries to variously wolf whistle or cheer Bilbo on. After a moment, Thorin coughed nervously, evidently not game to say something first – he was too tied up staring incredulously at the mistletoe.

"So," Bilbo's breath ghosted the dwarf's ear as he spoke just loud enough for most dwarves to hear if they were quiet. "Do you know this one?"

Thorin gulped audibly and formed his features into a stoic frown. "No. What does it mean?" his voice cracked a little. Bilbo grinned gleefully, happy for the chance to explain, and swung himself around the front of the dwarf, one foot on the log Thorin was seated on as he switched the mistletoe to his left hand and held it just above eye level in the few inches between their noses. Thorin's frown deepened, blush darkening as he moved his hands to grip the log on either side of him.

"It means," Bilbo purred, "kiss me."

The wolf whistles started up again when Bilbo raised an eyebrow suggestively, biting his lip in an attempt to stop his grin widening. Thorin cleared his throat, eyes flickering between Bilbo's eyes and his mouth. When he made no immediate attempt to move, Bilbo took initiative.

The cheering could only double as Bilbo crashed his lips to Thorin's, right hand tangling in the dwarf's hair and the other traveling to his chest to grab at the fur coat.

It was a moment before the stunned dwarf could respond, and Bilbo opted to force the decision by biting Thorin's lower lip, eliciting a slight gasp that said he'd brought the man back to his senses. Then Thorin was kissing back, smiling, one hand to Bilbo's back and pulling him down to straddle his lap. A rumbling growl of approval starting in his chest as Bilbo's hand tugged at Thorin's hair, lips trailing kisses and nips along his partner's jawline.

Several dwarves were laughing, and naturally, some exchanged wagers.

"I guess that explains the flowers," Kili and his brother grinned, and looked back at Bilbo and Thorin when a thump was heard, seeing the pair now on the ground and getting a little carried away.

**[edit;** thanks for the great reviews, you cool cats!**]**


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